


if not later, when?

by asiren (meliorismo)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliorismo/pseuds/asiren
Summary: Kyungsoo is left there, thinking, thinking, thinking, entirely motionless, because maybe — only maybe — if Junmyeon comes back to dress again on his discarded clothes, to call a taxi and go to his own apartment, his own life, if only Kyungsoo is so very motionless, asleep, entirely asleep, then maybe — perhaps — Junmyeon is going to stay, just this one night, just this one morning, just this one life.





	if not later, when?

**Author's Note:**

> this work is for the prompt #34 of the Reflection fanfest, which is "A and B are fuck buddies, but like all cliches go, A is left wanting more while B wants to remain "casual."" one of the things the prompter wanted was angst, so where we are. hope you like it! 
> 
> also, the title is from the book "call me by your name".

The room is dark and heavy with breathing. Kyungsoo tries to be very still, hoping that Junmyeon will stay right there, under his fingertips, if only he doesn’t realize that Kyungsoo is awake and listening. It’s wishful thinking, though, and Junmyeon soon rises out of the bed — the right side, the one where he always naps at — and into the bathroom, almost at the end of their vicious cycle: meet, fuck, wash, leave.

Kyungsoo is left there, thinking, thinking, thinking, entirely motionless, because maybe — only maybe — if Junmyeon comes back to dress again on his discarded clothes, to call a taxi and go to his own apartment, his own life, if only Kyungsoo is so very motionless, asleep, entirely asleep, then maybe — perhaps — Junmyeon is going to stay, just this one night, just this one morning, just this one life.

He doesn’t, though.

**//**

Kyungsoo was eighteen and a half when he met Junmyeon for the first time. As far as impressions go, it wasn’t exactly a good one, because they were both very busy with their own lives, just passing around the orbit of each other during this small, forgetful party, friend of a friend of a friend, _how are you doing?_ very muffled under the electronic music playing loudly on someone else’s sound device. Junmyeon was twenty-two, and it was also his birthday. He was wasting it over on the celebration of a cousin’s friend’s new promotion, the same way bitters grown ups used to do. Kyungsoo was just there for the booze.

They talked for, like, ten minutes. Junmyeon was moving around the talking circles, looking for something entertaining to be part of, and Kyungsoo just happened to be in one of those — the one where everyone was talking about new cars. He couldn’t blame Junmyeon when he moved away, almost immediately integrating himself with the crowd that was discussing weather change. He just watched his back, the red shirt, the formal pants, the only-just-left-work-sorry-about-that vibe, the almost sad way he stood there, laughing, laughing, laughing, including everyone else in his giggle, accommodating, welcoming, soft.

That was the first time Kyungsoo ever saw him.

**//**

The very, truest first time they had sex, the one where it’s all rushed and kind of messy, maybe a little bad, all things considered, they fuck with the lights off. They also had half their clothes still on, because it was that kind of lust, but Kyungsoo is more used to remember about the lights, obviously, since it was the one constant in all the times they were together — clothes sometimes off, but it didn’t mean anything because the only thing Kyungsoo could see was the ones he made in his imagination, with a little help of natural light.

“Are you wishing that I were someone else?” Kyungsoo asked once, very small, trying to pass it off as a moan, probably succeeding, the sound reverberating against Junmyeon’s neck. The bed ranging was loud, and angry, and sync to their heartbeats. That was the ninth or tenth time, of who knows how many, and there was still some hope pulsing between their bodies — Kyungsoo’s small, breakable hopes.

Junmyeon pushed against him, into him, one, two, three, Kyungsoo almost thought that he hadn’t heard, almost opened his mouth to say that again — what a shame. Junmyeon, at least, didn’t pretend he didn’t know what all the lights stunt were looking like. He would have to be an even bigger shitty maybe-friend than he already was to do something like that. “No.” he answered Kyungsoo, against his throat, against his shoulder, everywhere. And Kyungsoo moaned — for real this time — and it sounded like an _oh_ that could also be an _I’m glad_ or maybe a less revealing _well_.

If you say so.

**//**

“You could take me home.” said a very drunk Kyungsoo, way over the phase where you can kind of walk straight around the bar, seeking applause from your audience, making fun of your own drunken silliness to your friends, having the smallest control over yourself. The line of decency already crossed, kind of, maybe with the tequila stunt. All that clothes going off, all the salt over his belly, he laughed a little, maybe a lot, and the girl (Suzy?) blinked her pretty eyes at him, and he was a goner. But then she left, probably accompanied by better friends.

The guy beside him was looking really nice under the artificial light. Kyungsoo didn’t know his name, even if he looked a little familiar around the edges. It didn’t mean anything, though, because when you’re drunk everyone look a little like someone else, everyone is remembering you of another days, usually good ones, because Kyungsoo was one of these drunk people that just become clingy and soft.

“You’re very drunk.” the stranger said, a little bit of disapproval under his tone, hiding against the _you_ and the _drunk._ It was totally lost on Kyungsoo, though; it became very obvious when he just grinned.

“How about yes?” he blinked at the pretty stranger, trying for the nice look the girl had early, the one that make the whole idea sound a lot better than before. The stranger looked at him, stared a little, entirely unimpressed.

“You should go to your friends.” he said, and pointed to the general direction of Baekhyun who was, as usual, making a nuisance of himself.

“Yeah, right. You’re right.” Kyungsoo laughed at him, easily, and left to go help take away the booze from Baekhyun’s hand before the night ended up on a hospital again.

Junmyeon sighed, his face leaning against his hand, and watched him go.

**//**

Kyungsoo smiled at the group, bowing lowly at them. “My name is Do Kyungsoo and I will be working with you for the next two months! Please take care of me.”

Everyone smiled, welcoming, including the boss. Kyungsoo was the man who would make their opening gala the biggest success, or die trying, and they didn’t have any reason to be ill-disposed about him. Even so, there was this feeling on his gut, the one he was trying very hard to kill. Kyungsoo knew he had the greatest references. He was known to make small parties look fancy, which was exactly what Kim Junmyeon wanted for his new company.

_It’s going to run smoothly_ , Kyungsoo told himself, firmly, _everything is going to be great._

Ae-Kyung, Junmyeon’s second in command, reached out for Kyungsoo to shake her hand. It was very forward and ocidental of her, and Kyungsoo tried hard not to blink or breathe or move like it was anything but the normal way to treat someone when you meet them. People who put someone with a British resumeé on a position of high relevance usually don’t want their new employees to act like they’re judging their choices.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Kim Junmyeon said, very formally, his smooth voice sounding like a memory of something he couldn’t quite grasp. “If you would be so kind as to follow me to my office so we can discuss the details of your work here.”

Kyungsoo smiled, bowing again. “Of course!”

Everyone waved goodbye, going back to their respective places, and Kyungsoo is left there, alone, following his new boss — for two months — to his office, trying to project experience and maturity, even if he was only twenty-three years old.

“I’ll be direct”, Junmyeon said from behind the wood desk, sitting on a very elegant, very boss-y chair. “I know already of your previous work, and your skills, and your professional profile, as well as your price. All I want to know is the time.”

“How long is going to take to put everything in place, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a small event, if I may say, so one month, maybe less. It is, of course, relative of how much you want to spend.”

“I want to spend the less possible, being honest, but not so little as to look petty. I’m a businessman, and I don’t want to waste what doesn’t need to be wasted. I’m trusting you to keep everything elegant and low profile. I don’t want anything that would show up on a tabloid, neither do I want what wouldn’t make the small society session on a print newspaper.”

“Traditional, then.”

“Very.”

Kyungsoo smiled. “I can work with that.”

**//**

They fell in bed with the easy that they fell into a professional relationship, the very one that was ended twenty-four minutes prior the sex. For two months they kept their distance, maintained their flirtation to the bare minimum, concentrated all their focus on the gala, but it was all over. Everyone was already safely at home, the press was hopefully already writing their piece, and Junmyeon was the happiest he could get. Kyungsoo was fine with that. All he wanted was that nice suit off that nicer body.

They half undressed in the dark, bumping against the furniture, and fucked on the couch because the bed was really too far away. Kyungsoo laughed against his own arm, breathlessly, and he could feel when Junmyeon smiled around his cock. “Is this crazy?” he asked, not exactly waiting for an answer — which was good, because he didn’t get one.

After that, they didn’t move for a while. Kyungsoo stayed there, leaning against his old couch — his flat was closer than Junmyeon’s —, trying to count their breaths. The silence was heavy, exhausted, and Kyungsoo could almost hear Junmyeon’s mind moving, moving, moving, trying to encounter a way to leave. The perfect excuse, polite but not without distance. Kyungsoo thought that maybe, just this one time, he could let Junmyeon off the hook. Just this one time. Then he turned his face, his lips against Junmyeon’s cheek, and said, “Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

**//**

They kept their charade for five months. Meet, fuck, wash, leave. Kyungsoo would sometimes be the one sending the text _can you come over?_ , but it was usually Junmyeon the responsable for their, well, booty calls. Even when they fucked on Junmyeon’s bed, lights off, he would encounter some excuse to leave, a small note or a small murmur _can you lock everything after you?,_ the truest only thing that he would give Kyungsoo. At least, he knew where they standed. At least, Kyungsoo knew that his hopes — small, breakable hopes — were just about to be crushed.

**//**

Kyungsoo is there, on his bed, thinking, thinking, thinking, entirely motionless, because maybe — only maybe — if Junmyeon comes back to dress again on his discarded clothes, to call a taxi and go to his own apartment, his own life, if only Kyungsoo is so very motionless, asleep, entirely asleep, then maybe — perhaps — Junmyeon is going to stay, just this one night, just this one morning, just this one life.

  


He doesn’t, though.


End file.
